Angels and Phantoms
by aos33
Summary: What if Raoul wasn't a gentleman. What if he was a drunk? Told from Christine's POV, this is her story of being torn between a place in society, or in the shadows with Erik. What will she chose? Raoul bashing not intended... Just Love Never Dies inspired. My first fanfic, please read and review. The cover art is A Beautiful Thing- Sketch by Muirin007, look for Muirin on deviantart
1. Prolouge, Part 1

**Author's Note: **This is my first fan-fiction, so I really, really hope you like it. I know this story probably won't be as amazing and spectacular as some other stories, so I appreciate that you are taking the time to read this. Please, please, please review! And be honest, and as critical as possible, so I can improve future chapters and stories. Thank you so much (again) for reading my story.

I do not own The Phantom of the Opera (sadly).

****

**Prologue**

I held the lady's hand as she walked. The lady was polite, however, her hand was cold and she was distant. Not like my father, who was always warm, kind, loving, and so _there_. I missed him. Over the past few weeks I couldn't help but compare this woman who took me from my home to the father who raised me.

But in this large strange building, the Opera Populaire, I held onto the lady's hand, and this didn't happen often, for the comfort of something familiar in this new place. The lady led me up a large, marble staircase. I looked around at the detailed statues that garnished the walls and ceiling of the chamber. So many of them were angels. Father promised me he'd send me an angel of music, but so far, I haven't seen even a sign of any angel watching me. It's been three weeks.

Three weeks since the funeral. Three weeks with this lady, going from place to place to find someone or somewhere to live at. I must have seen half of France already! And all I wanted was to go back home, to my little house by the sea. Maybe my angel couldn't find me because I had moved around too much, and now he would never be able to watch over me. Tears blurred my vision, and for what felt like the millionth time in the time since father's death, I resisted the urge to fall to the floor and cry, and then just curl up in a corner and join my father in heaven.

The lady pulled me forward a little, as I had fallen behind, lost in my thoughts. I looked up and saw that in front of my there stood a tall woman dressed in black. "Christine," the lady I had been with for what felt like a miserable eternity, "this is Madame Giry." the lady turned and addressed Madame Giry, "Madame Giry, this is Christine Daaè, the girl I was telling you about." She turned back to me and said "Christine, you will be living here, in the opera house. Madame Giry will be instructing you in ballet." And with that she walked me over to Madame Giry, gave her my portmanteau and left.

"Come, Christine." Madame Giry ordered. She began walking down a corridor. I followed her.

**xxxxxxxxx**

Madame Giry had taken me on a long tour of the opera house. My feet ached from walking for so long. "Come," Madame Giry said, "I will take you to your room." She walked me down yet another corridor, and I sighed. She led me to a dark brown door and knocked. "Meg, open the door, please." I heard footsteps, and then the door flew open, revealing a small blond girl. She had a heart-shaped face, and waist length golden hair. She looked at me curiously with bubbly brown eyes.

"Hi!IamMeg!Whoareyou?Aregoingtobelivinghere?Howoldareyou?Thisisgoingtobesofun!Wearegoingtobebestfriends!" She said so fast that I had to stop and think before answering.

For the first time since I arrived at the opera house I spoke, "Hi, I'm Christine. Yes I'm going to learn ballet, and hopefully to sing. I hope it will be fun, and that we will be best friends." I was sure I addressed all her comments. The little blond moved, as graceful as a swan, to envelop me in a hug. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to react.

"Meg," Madame Giry interrupted, "This is Christine Daaè, and she is going to be your new roommate. I expect you to help her adjust to life in the Opera Populaire. Christine," she said to me, "this is Meg, my daughter. She will be your roommate. She will help you if you need anything. Ballet class starts at 7 in the morning tomorrow. Goodnight." Meg grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the room, carrying my bag in with her other hand.

"YAY!Weareroommates!?" Meg said so fast, I didn't understand a word.

"Come again?" I asked.

"Yay! We're roommates! Why did you come to the opera house, Christine?" she asked, slower.

"I'm glad we are roommates too. And I came here because my father died, and I have nowhere else to go." I said quietly.

"Oh." Meg was very quiet now, avoiding my gaze, "I'm sorry Christine."

I smiled sadly, "I think I'm going to take a walk."

"Okay," Meg said, almost whispering, "see you later." I slipped out of the room, and as soon as I was out of hearing range of the door to our room, which remained slightly ajar, I broke into a sprint. I ran through hallways and up and down stairwells to a chapel in a remote corner of the building.


	2. Prolouge, Part 2

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to any and all who read the beginning of my story. I have finals this week, andthere are people renovating my house, so I don't know if I'll be able to update frequently, but I'll try. Oh, in this chapter, Christine meets her angel of music for the first time, so tell me what you think. The song the Phantom sings is a verse from "Loving You Keeps Me Alive" from Dracula the Musical which I do not own.

And:

PhantomFan01: Thank you for the compliments. You were my first review and you made my day!

Erik'sSami: Hey girlllll! Of course I know who you are! I'll do my best, but you try to Punjab me and you better walk quietly (preferably in cool black boots), and watch your skin, or we'll need to put you back together like the Phantom's face. =) MWAHAHA! P.S. Nice name ;)

**Prologue (Part 2)**

I rushed into the chapel, and fell into the ground. I looked up, and saw a picture of Gustave Daaè, my father. Memories of the past nine years spent with my father filled my mind. MY eyes began to fill with tears once again, but instead of holding them back, I let them fall over the edge and, like a dam bursting, once a leak sprung, all the barriers came crashing down. My vision began to blur, my nose began to run, and I was trembling uncontrollably.

I looked up, and reflected in the glass covering my father's picture was the reflection of a girl, me. My face was swollen, red, and tear-streaked. If my father was here, one look at my face at this moment would have caused us both to laugh like maniacs until we fell onto the floor. That thought just made me cry harder than before.

"What is wrong, child?" A voice said. I shot up and turned around in a slow circle, surveying the small chamber. No one was there, not in the shadows, not in plain sight, not in the stairwell leading to the chapel, nowhere.

"Who a-are you?" I said in a shaky voice, using one hand to wipe away any tears that still trickled down my face. The soft, caressing sounds of a violin filled the room. I stopped crying immediately as a familiar tune filled the air, and began to sing along, feeling better than I had since father departed for heaven. I thought back to what my father told me three years ago. Raoul and I sat quietly, enraptured in my father's tale of the angel. Then he turned to me and said that when he was in heaven he would send me the angel. This time, I spoke a little more bravely, "Are you my angel of music? Did father send you?"

There was a long pause, and then the voice replied, "Yes, child, I am your angel."

"Is father alright, angel?"

"Yes, child, he is alright, but he misses you."

"Can you tell him that I miss him as well? And can you ask him to return from heaven?"

"I will send your message, but I doubt that God can send him back."

"Okay, angel."

"You have a very beautiful voice, Christine." The angel complimented. I was slightly shocked that the angel knew my name. But why shouldn't he, he was an angel, and my father obviously wouldn't send him to me without first telling him my name.

"Thank you, angel." I replied, "I want to be in the chorus, when I'm old enough." I wanted to sing, ever since I could remember, it was one of the things that always made my father smile. He loved my singing, and now I was determined to be the best. Father told me that if you were visited by the angel of music as a child, you would become a protégé. I had been blessed by a visit.

"You will be more than a chorus girl, Miss Daaè." The angel said, "You will be a prima donna! The greatest diva to ever live! I will make it happen."

"Thank you angel!" I squealed.

"Go back to your room, Christine, I will visit you soon, and I will begin teaching you."

"Yes sir." I replied, and began walking up the stairs to my room.

**xxxxxxxxx**

Later that night I lay on my new bed. Meg was with her mother, and I didn't know when she'd be back. The room felt so empty without her constant chatter. The new room felt very large. Each shadow seemed darker, and large enough to conceal a monster. The wind blew loudly, and raindrops shattered on the window. "Angel, are you there?" I asked into the darkness. I sincerely hoped he was, for any companionship to get through my first night in a new room would be a gift from above.

"Yes, child?" the voice of my father's last gift rang through the room.

"I'm frightened." I whispered, "would you sing me a song to help me fall asleep?"

"Of course child." He said.

He began singing, with a voice that flowed over my senses like silk. A voice so beautiful it was scary. A voice that truly belonged to an angel.

"Loving you keeps me alive,  
I'll be in your heart forever.  
And you'll be a part of me,  
From now 'til eternity.  
You've talked yourself into believing he's the one,

Such wild pretenses."

And my angel's song was the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Chapter one takes place nine years after the prologue. Christine is now 18 years old, and now we are in the same time as ALW's story. Also, sorry i haven't updated in so long. It's summer vacation, which means camp, vacation, traveling, and overall laziness. Also, my house isbeing renovated, so the internet gets disrupted a lot, and I can't concentrate with all the noise! I'll try to update more frequently now, and since schools starting again soon (WHYYYYYY!?) I'll need an excuse to procrastinate... I'll try anyway, I have school, I shall be in a play, start dancing, do acting and singing lessons/classes, and musical theatre workshops. So yeah. Wish me luck... And:

Erik'sSami- I love your fanfic too! And hopefully we'll see more of Erik (3) soon.

PhantomFan01- I thank you kindly!

Clown Accomplice- AHHHHHH! ONE OF MY FAVORITE FANFIC WRITERS REVIEWED ME! You have no idea how happy I was when I saw this, thank you thank you thank you!

MusicalLover17- Thank you very much :)

Oh, and I use the song "Think of Me" for ALW's Phantom of the Opera.

**Chapter 1**

"New managers," Meg whispered to me, "I told you."

"I know, I know, your right I'm wrong." I replied, almost as irrated as Madame Giry was that rehersals were delayed. I had a voice lesson today, and if I didn't arrive on time... Oh dear... Last time I was late, the angel of music left me for a week... "Can they hurry up already!"

"Christine," Meg nudged me, "why are you so upset, it's not as if you have anywhere important to be."

I looked over at Meg. The angel said I cannot share our secrets, with _anyone_. That meant Meg, my best friend, the girl I consider as a sister, cannot know. She had no idea...

"AHHHHHHHHHHH" Carlotta, screamed, tearing me away from my thoughts and back to the stage. She was our Italian Prima Donna, she was a fat lady, with curly orange hair, and in her late forties, she used to be a distant singer, but she abused her voice, never warming up, also screeching notes outside her range, and i never understood why she was still Prima Donna. I looked around shocked, and noticed the backdrop from one of the scenes had fallen onto her. Half the cast ran to help the struggling diva, while the rest of us stood, half in shock, half trying not to laugh.

"Señora!" The one of the new managers, Monsieur André, rushed over to her, "are you alright?" Carlotta started crying hysterically.

"These... things do happen." Said the other, Monsieur Firmin.

This got Carlotta's attention. "Sì," she said, "These things do 'appen. For the past ten years, these things go on. And does our manager stop them, NO!" and then she started screaming (we were lucky she didn't shatter our ear drums with the high pitched, squeaky, shrieky, screaming that occured). "AND YOU TWO! YOU ARE WORSE THEN HIM! YOU ARE HERE FIVE MINUTES, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW!"

"Señora, please." Monsieur Andrè started.

"NO!" She continued, "I WILL NOT WORK UNDER THESE CONDITIONS! UBALDO! WE'RE LEAVING!" and with that the Prima Donna, and our lead tenor (her lover) left the theatre. The door slammed shut.

"BUQUET!" Monsieur Lefèvre called, "He's chief of the flies. He is to blame."

The door to the theatre opened. "Yes?" a confused Buquet walked in.

"Who! What! When?" Monsieur Lefèvre exclaimed, "If you need me, I'll be in America." and with that he walked out.

"What happened?" Buquet inquired.

"While you weren't at your post, a backdrop fell on the leading lady! She left and now we shall have to cancel the gala!" Monsieur Firmin.

"I swear," Buquet stated, "I wasn't there, no one was!" he turned towards a group of the other ballerinas, "And if there was, it must have been the GHOST!"

The ballerinas screamed and scurried backstage. "Theatre folks and their superstitions! The Vicomte de Changy will be most upset... we shall have to cancel the gala tonight!" Firmin fumed.

"Monsieurs," Madame Giry walked in from the wings and towards the managers, "I have a note."

"From whom?" Andrè looked up at Madame Giry and walked towards her.

"From the Opera Ghost." Madame Giry continued, as the managers rolled their eyes in disbelief, "He welcomes you, and your patron, the Vicount de Changy to the opera house. He says to keep box five open for his personal use, and says that his salary is due.

"A salary! Not only was box five sold for the gala, but we couldn't pay if we wanted to, which we do not, because we shall have to cancel!"

Over by the wings, Meg's face lit up as she rushed foward, "Christine Daaè could sing it, sir!" Meg smiled.

"A chorus girl?" Andrè said in shock. Meg ran back to me (I in the wings) and dragged me foward.

"Let her sing," Madame Giry commanded, "she has been well taught."

"By whom?" Firmin asked, suspitious.

I blushed, "I don't know his name."

Andrè sighed, "Very well."

"Is two bars sufficient?" Monsieur Reyer, our musical director, asked me. I just nodded.

The music for the aria began.

"Think of me

Think of me fondly

When we've said good bye

Remember me every so often

Promise me you'll try

On that day, that not so distant day

When you are far away and free

If you ever find a moment

Spare a thought for me!"

People started applauding. "You are our Elisa tonight." said Monsieur Reyer. "I'll take you to your dressing room. A dresser will be there in thirty minutes, and you must be ready for another rehersal in an hour."


	4. Chapter 2

**Angels and Phantoms, Chapter 2**

**Author's Note:** I'm terribly sorry I haven't been able to upload to frequently, my computer is stupid, and I'm lazy, and I haven't been inspired to write lately (and when I am I have school work to do...). Thank you all for bearing with me, and reviewing and favoriting and following, you make my day,and since I can now upload with my iPad, hopefully I'll write more.

PhantomFan01- I know you can't, but I saw this one day and just thought, this is the perfect for Angels and Phantoms, so I got permission to make it the cover :)

MusicalLover17- Thank you!

ChristineLSamuels- Love u gurl! 3

xMegxGiryx- I sincerely thank you very much!

Ok, in this chapter the song I use (well, I use part of it) is No One Knows Who I Am from Jekyll and Hyde (the musical by Frank Wildhorn). Also, I'm skipping the performance, because it isn't relevant, and I got serious writers block when trying to write it, so sorry if I'm disappointing anyone.

AND NOW, (drum role please,) I'd like to introduce my new Beta... xMegxGiryx! Thank her for helping me make this chapter so lovely, and for being the fastest editor I've ever met (and an accurate one at that)!

**Chapter 2**

Wow. My _first_ performance as a Prima Donna. I didn't know it'd feel like... like... like that. I didn't know I could do it. Just a few hours ago, I felt like I was going to die. But I didn't! I was Elissa, the crowd cheered for me, _clapped_ for me**, **and I even got a standing ovation! I thought I was going to die, or publicly humiliate myself, but I didn't. I started singing and then it felt like I was flying. It was the most spectacular feeling in the world.

"Christine!" Meg ran towards me, barely avoiding crashes with the others back stage, "Oh, Christine**,** you were amazing! I didn't know you could do that! I mean, I knew you were good, but that was just _wow_!"

"Thank you, Meg." I replied in a shaky voice. I began walking towards my dressing room, with Meg following me. Everywhere I went, I heard congratulations, and I barely managed to make it through the crowd of people. Still, I was in shock. I had never before received so much honor and glory, and now here it all was... for me. _And for you, Papa_, I said quietly, inside my mind.

"Meg Giry!" Madame Giry's voice caused Meg to stop in her tracks. We both turned to face her.

"Yes, Mother?" Meg asked nervously. I got the feeling she wasn't supposed to be here.

"You are a ballet dancer, are you not?" Madame Giry inquired. Madame Giry was kind enough, but ballet was her world, and when she was instructing us she was so strict that she could make anyone cower.

Meg audibly swallowed, "Yes..." she said, in a small voice.

"Then why are you not practicing?"

"Because I'm congratulating my best friend for her success on her first night as Prima Donna," Meg said, regaining some of her usual, cheery confidence.

"There will be time for that later. Go rehearse!" Madame Giry commanded. Meg ran backstage, to join the rest of the corps de ballet of the Paris Opera. For a moment, I tensed, wondering what Madame would want to tell me. Madame Giry turned to me, her black dress swishing around her legs.

"Congratulations, Christine. You did well."

"Thank you, Madame Giry." I smiled at her. Praises from the Madame were rare, but she always meant it when she gave one.

"Now, you should go to your dressing room, before you are swarmed by more spectators and won't be able to leave until tomorrow," she warned. I smiled and ran down the corridors of the old building to my dressing room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you." I grinned at my dresser, finally freed of the corset I had to wear under my dress. My sides we so sore, and I had red marks above my ribs, which must have been touching when I wore the dress. I pulled on a white robe, wanting to just enjoy the freedom of not being in restrictive clothing.

My dresser left and the door closed. I sank into a plush chair and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired. My teacher always said that when you sing, you should put your soul out their for the world to see. I tried, but it's frightening. My teacher said not to be scared, because my soul is beautiful. But what if the audience doesn't think so? What if someone likes it so much that I never get it back?

"Christine," I scolded myself, "stop thinking such atrocious thoughts, it's just singing. No one can take your soul from you with music." I wondered what my teacher, my angel, would think about my performance tonight. After all, I did it all to please him, my good angel, and my father.

I heard footsteps and indistinct talking in the hall. I straightened in my chair. The door opened. "Hello Lotte." the visitor called.

I turned from my mirror, "Monsieur?" I asked.

"Don't you remember me Lotte?" He leaned against the door and gave me a lopsided grin, "don't you remember your red scarf? Those picnics in the attic?"

And I did remember. It hit me right then. My beautiful red scarf, flying out to the sea. The little boy, jumping in to get it from me. Oh. _Oh_!

"Raoul!" I exclaimed, "it is you!" I grinned back at him. "You're so... grown up! I didn't recognize you!"

"So are you." He walked towards me, reminding me of way back when. "You're even more beautiful then I remember. I didn't think it was possible." He took my hand, and brushed his lips across my knuckles.

A blush colored my cheeks, and I looked down, slightly embarrassed. "Thank you, Raoul."

"And your voice! I had no idea you could sing so spectacularly!"

My cheeks got redder at this. "Thank you, Raoul." I looked into his eyes, "It's so good to see you!"

"Who taught you to sing like that?" he asked.

"My father arranged for a teacher before he died." I hated to lie, but I my angel said he must be kept a secret.

"What is his name?" Raoul asked chuckling. He must have found my evasiveness entertaining. I never had been good at lying.

"I... I don't know." I looked down at my shoes.

Raoul smiled. "Well, he's obviously taught you well. Would you like to join me for dinner?"

I frowned. "I can't, my a... my, ah, teacher is very strict."

"Don't worry, Lotte, I shan't keep you up late."

"Raoul, no! I can't!" My desperation seeped into my voice.

"_You_ must change," he said, looking down at my robe, "and I must get my hat. I'll be back in half an hour, Lotte." He walked towards the door, gave me a bow, and left. The door was closed.

"Things have changed, Raoul." I whispered, "and I can't even begin to explain how, much less tell you."

I began to sing, crying over how I had to deceive everyone, my best friend, my childhood sweetheart, everyone.

_"Look at me _

_and tell me who I am,_

_What I am,_

_Where I am,_

_Call me a fool and it's true,_

_I am,_

_I don't know who I am._

_It's such a shame,_

_I'm such a sham, _

_No one knows who I am."_

I slumped into my chair, leaning against the velvet. I loved my angel, but keeping him a secret caused me so much pain sometimes.

"_Brava... Brava... Bravissima."_

A beautiful voice echoed through the room. _His_ voice.

I dried my eyes, and turned toward the center of the room. "Angel?"

"Yes, child. Why do you weep, after such a success? Are you not happy as Prima Donna?" my angel's voice calmed me down instantly. It was like an eternal moment of joy, washing through me.

"No, it was amazing." I smiled weakly, "but..."

"But what, Christine?"

"Don't be angry, angel." I took a deep breath. "It's your secret. I cannot keep it, and let people know me at the same time. Meg is like a sister to me, and yet she doesn't know about the biggest part of my life. Raoul, he was-"

"The boy!" my Angel's voice boomed. He was angry. "He is the reason you are unhappy with your success?"

"No! It isn't that! It's just that the people close to me don't know me! It is the secret I hate keeping!" Tears filled my eyes.

My angel became very quiet, "Would you like me to leave you?" His voice was a mere whisper.

"What? No! Don't leave!" I whispered, in panic. No. He was my anchor. Without him, I was nothing. I _needed _him.

"Then you must keep the secret! Why does this bother you now?" My angel spoke regularly now. Well, regularly for him anyway, as his voice was anything but normal.

"I'm eighteen! I have few friends, who I spend little time with! I don't ever go anywhere! And I've never..." I left my sentence in complete.

"You want... a flesh and blood companion?" my angel asked quietly.

"I want to spend time with someone who I can actually see occasionally." I admitted. "Not that I don't want you, but I'm lonely."

"Christine, turn to the mirror." He said.

I slowly did as he instructed, but instead of seeing the mirror, there was an opening, to a candlelit passage. And standing in the doorway, was a tall shrouded figure. He held out his hand. "Come with me." he simply said, in the voice of my angel. And I reached for his hand.


	5. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Isn't it exciting? Christine and Erik finally meet in person (initiate fangirling)! Once again, I'd like to thank my lovely Beta xMegxGiryx! I hope you like it! Please, I beg of you, read and review! Or else I may have to drop a chandelier on some of you ;)

I based Erik's house mostly on what I like to imagine, but there are influences from many other versions, so anything taken from another version is not mine.  
And I use the part of the song_ As The World Falls Down_ from_ Labyrinth_, it is David Bowie's song.

xMegxGiryx- Thank you for helping! You are part of the reasons it's up, and not a mess :)

PhantomFan01- I know! My thought when I finished reading the chapter were bum bum bum... BUUUUUM! I'm glad you like that Christine isn't happy with keeping secrets, I thought it worked well with her character. And thank you!

newbornphanatic- I'm so happy you like it! I've been fangirling all week, and I'm trying to update as much as possible with my schedule, so wish me luck! I can't deny Christine (and especially not Erik) anything, so of course she gets her wish! Thank you for reviewing, and please do keep reading. :)

ChristineLSamuels- LOL! Are you threatening me? And by the way, I can actually update frequently now thanks to my Beta and most of chorus being a free period :) Now update your story! The threat works both ways, dearie.

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**Chapter 3**

The man pulled me through the door,into the candlelit corridor. He was tall, forI didn't even reach his shoulders. Though I only saw his back, I observed that he was very thin, but well formed. His hair was as black as the grand piano Monsieur Reyer played. The only skin I saw was the hand that covered mine, but it was as pale as the ivory keys. From what I could see, he was beautiful. He was obviously my angel.

"Angel?" I breathed.

"Perhaps." His voice echoed down the path. He continued to lead me through what now seemed like a never ending passage, going eternally downward. I was entranced by the majestic man in front of me.

I saw that in the distance our path forked. He began walking faster. I wasn't expecting the sudden pull, and stumbled. I was encompassed by a pair of strong, lithe arms. I regained my footing, cursing myself for looking like such an couldn't I be as poised and elegant as Meg! I danced ballet too!

The arms were still surrounding me, crushing me against the chest of the man. He had held me longer then necessary, possibly to make sure I didn't fall over again. I looked up at my savior. Half his face was covered by a white mask. But what I could see was... heavenly. His eyes were golden yellow. His face was thin, with an aristocratic nose, and a strong chin. He was more beautiful thanI though possible, most definitely an angel.

My throat was suddenly as dry as Persian deserts were rumored to be. My waist felt like it was on fire where his arms touched me. I swallowed and cleared my throat. "Thank you**," **I squeaked.

He released me, and I took a step back. I looked up at him. He was looking up to some point in the distance, his eyes like molten gold in the candlelight. "Come, let us continue, Christine." My name flowed from his lips. The way he spoke my name made it seem like the most musical word in all of existence. I felt my stomach knot, and I was all warm and rejoicinginside.

"Okay." I took his hand, and he began walking forward, though he was slower this time. We went down more twisting hallways, until we approached a lake.

He took me to a gondola, hidden by the swirling mist on the lake. He release my hand, and stepped into the small boat. The boat rocked, and he waited for it to still before helping me into the front. He stood behind me, and took a long oar from the boat. He used the oar to move us forward, through a small channel and onto the large glassy lake. The only sounds were those of breathing, and the movement of the oar through the still water.

I leaned back, bumping into his legs. I looked up at him, hoping he didn't mind. "Relax, Christine," his low voice growled in a stunning tenor. I observed his reaction as I rested my weight on his legs. He gave me a slight smile. In reaction**, **I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

The boat shuddered slightly as it bumped into the shore on what I assumed was the other side of the lake. He helped me sit up and then went onto the rocky shore, tying the boat to a rock, then took my hand and assisted me off. We walked a little, and he let go of my hand and walked towards a rock wall. His hand trailed across the stones, and he pressed down gently.

A section of the wall slidback and to the side. My jaw dropped, and I stared in awe. He looked at me and chuckled. "Welcome to my humble abode," he murmured. He strode towards the opening, and turned to look at me. "After you, Christine," he gestured towards the door.

I took a step towards the hole in the wall, and stopped before it. He put his hand on my shoulder. "You won't be in any danger," he said "I swear upon my life." I turned towards him. He seemed serious, and he was an angel, so he would keep me safe. I took a deep breath and turned towards the entrance once more. I put my hand on the one he placed on my shoulder, squeezed it tightly and stepped through, and down a corridor.

I stopped before another door, a normal one this time. He walked around from behind me and opened the door for me, waiting for me to pass the threshold like a gentleman. I went past him and into a large room.

"Come, Christine, let us practice." He walked towards a large organ that took up one of the room's** l**arge wall. This wasn't what I expected. My angel appeared to me, and led me down to what appeared to be his home on earth. _What were you expecting_, I mentally chided myself,_after all, he is the angel of music_! I wandered to an armchair by where he sat on the bench.

"May I?" I asked tentatively.

"Of course! Where are my manners!" he exclaimed. "Please, sit. Would you like tea, or some other beverage?"

I smiled shyly at him. "No, thank you, Angel." His hands wandered over the organ, and he started humming. "But Angel?" I started.

"Yes?"

"Would you sing me a song?" I hadn't heard him sing a song unless he was instructing me in it since I was a little girl.

"Alright**," **he said, and began singing.

_"There's such a sad love  
Deep in your eyes,  
A kind of pale jewel  
Opens in closes  
In your eyes  
I'll place the skies  
Within you eyes  
It's such a fool's heart  
Beating so fast  
In search of new dreams  
A love that will last  
Within your heart  
I'll place the moon  
Within your heart  
As the pain sweeps through  
Makes no sense for you  
Every thrill has gone  
Wasn't too much fun at all  
But I'll be there for you  
As the world falls down  
Falling  
Falling down  
Falling in love  
I'll paint you mornings of gold  
I'll spin you valentine evenings  
Though we're strangers 'til now  
We're choosing the path between the stars  
I'll place our love between the stars  
As the pain sweeps through  
Makes no sense for you  
Every thrill has gone  
Wasn't too much fun at all  
But I'll be there for you  
As the world falls down..."_

Oh, his beautiful voice! I'd almost forgotten the rich timbre to it, like magic running through my very veins. It was like honey, smooth and rich, dripping with power.

I stifled a yawn, and he stopped playing and glanced over at me. "You must be tired. I've forgotten what a long day you've had. Come, you should rest." He led me into another room, and walked me to a large bed. "Sleep, we'll continue once you've rested." He tucked me in, blew out the candle, and left me.


	6. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Hey y'all! Thank you for all the support! You guys keep me writing! Thanks to all who reviewed, favorited, and follows, I love you people! I'd like to thank my lovely Beta xMegxGiryx for helping me edit and revise my story, and its thanks to her I can update so frequently :) Now pleasepleaseplease read and review!  
And sorry for the short chapter, it's getting ready for a big chapter next week!

xMegxGiryx- Thank you! Thank you very much!

MusicalLover17- Yay! I'm so happy! You made me smile like a maniac, I hope you know that.

newbornphanatic- Awwwwww! You're so sweet! You falter me. I mean, better than MOTN, that's the kindest thing I've ever heard! It isn't completely ALW based, and I need to work on writing smut, so this is what happened, and I'm so glad you like it! Besides, I love the song, so I was looking for an excuse to use it. I'm trying to update like once every week and a half or so, inhale that's frequently enough :) You made my week by the way, so a gazillion thank yous!

ChristineLSamuels- Well of course! It's me, what did you expect?

PhantomFan01- Thank you! I shan't disappoint! You falter me, my dear :)

emeraldphan- You're too kind! I'm glad you like them, cause to be honest, I only had them there for some introduction, and I wasn't too sure people would like them. Alas, success! Thank you :D

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**Chapter 4**

I peeked open my eyes. Where was I? It was dark, and chilly, and I was hungry and had to...well, I hadto relieve myself. I pushed myself up, and willed my eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

How did I get here? I remember... mist? And a lake. A boat? Candles, everywhere, coming out of the water, and on the walls of dark corridors. And a man. I shivered. No not, a man, an angel, a heavenly being. Where was he?

"Angel?" I called into the velvet darkness, for it was darker in this room underground then in the blackest night of a moonless sky in the world above. I waited, for a few minutes. Or was it hours? Heartbeats, maybe? It was so easy to lose track of time in this hidden place. I got up, trying to recall where I entered from last night. I wandered in the general general direction of where I believed the door was. My hands reached out blindly for a doorknob, and crashed into a few objects. I hopednothing broke, for I knew the angel would be upset if I damaged his possessions.

My hands grazed a crack in the wall. I traced it, and it seemed to cut out a door. I skimmed my hands around it until I felt the curved brass of the door handle. I pushed down and out, nearly falling over as the door flew open. Why was I cursed to be so clumsy! I straightened myself.

Then I heard it. Music. It flowed through the walls. It filled every crevice. It was captivating, floating, then falling, and soaring once more. It was loud and commanding, and near silent and pleading, all at once. My legs moved of their own accord, carrying me to the source of the music, the room where we first entered this place.

There he sat, by the organ, fingers flying over the keys, caressing the ivory. He was seducing the most beautiful sounds from the organ, as its music wailed and begged, forcing my attention. I couldn't focus. I couldn't breathe, for the sounds took me elsewhere. Who was this man, this angel, who was so beautiful**, **that every sound he made, enraptured the soul. Why did he wear a mask to conceal such beauty?

I crept towards him. He was so engaged in making the music, he didn't notice my hand slip around until I gripped the smooth material of his white half mask. But by then it was too late. I ripped it off as he pushed me to the floor. I let out a shriek of terror. What possessed my angel to react this way?

"Why Christine?" he wailed to himself, hand covering the recently unmasked portion of his face, "Why did you do that? Why ruin this? Ruin everything? Anything! I would have given you anything! I would haven made you happy! But you! You little prying Pandora! You had to do the ONE THING that destroys it all!" his voice crescendoed as he mourned something I couldn't begin to understand.

"Angel?" I whispered, confused and scared of the fury and misery that filled my angel.

"How can you say that!" he began screaming at me, turning to face me, his hand still in place of his mask, "I am no angel! How can you not see!" His fury frightened me to no end.I whimpered, as he approached me. He clutched my arm in a death grip, "Everything! Gone! Even you! You recoil in horror from me!" I moaned as my arm went numb. He looked at me in shock and released me, backing away, and falling to his knees, letting out a choked sob. "Because I am a monster," he whispered to himself. I felt my heart shatter, seeing my angel dying inside like this.

I picked up the mask that had fallen to my feet moments ago. My arm extended, offering him the mask, hoping to right this wrong. He took it, our fingers brushing gently. He turned away from me and put it on. "Come," he commanded, not so angry now, but still very stiff."you must return. You will have been missed by now." He stalked towards the door. And so I followed him out.


	7. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: Okay, so this chapter begins the real action. And we'll finally actually have Raoul in the story! How exciting! So tell me what you think and review! I know some of you don't! I can see how many people read the story, you guys know that, right? So those of you who don't review, pleasepleasepleaspleasepleas e review! And those of you who do, I love you guys! I mean, I love anyone who reads what I write, but I wish you'd review.

ChristineLSamuels- Love you! Thank you, and thanks for helping me with my writers block! And of course I'll review!

xMegxGiryx- Many thanks!

PhantomFan01- Mmhmm. It annoys me sometimes, but I'd probably be the same way. Thank you :D

MusicalLover17- YAY! I do try. Thanks!

newbornphanatic- *cries tears of joy* You're so sweet! I love you! You are now my new favorite person *virtually hugging you right now*

omerici8- Thank you, dearie

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**Chapter** **5**

The mirror slid shut. I stood alone in the silent dressing room. There, I waited, pleading with heaven to send back my angel. I couldn't even begin to imagine what my days would be like without him. The long silent days, without his music to fill my head and possess my heart. How would I be able to sing, knowing I'd hurt the one who gave me the gift of song? I sat down on the floor in front of the mirror, staring, trying to see through it to see if my angel was watching me.

A tear slid down my cheek, followed by another, and another. In the mirror,I could see what a mess I was. My dress rumpled from sleeping in it, my hair frizzy from the humidity of the lake. My eyes were red around my brown irises, and my face tear streaked. Because my angel was leaving, because of my stupidity and curiosity!**  
**

The sunlight shined through a window. I must have been sitting for hours, and my legs were sore. I got onto my feet to stretch my legs, and walked around the room, before moving back to the mirror. Where was he?

The door burst open, "Christine!" Meg flew into the room. "Where were you! We were all so worried, you disappeared after the performance! Where did you go?" she took a breath, and looked at me. She pulled me into a hug, "What's wrong? Why were you crying?"

"He's gone, Meg," I whispered hoarsely, "because of me. My angel left because of me." Meg's arms tightened around me, trying to comfort me.

"Who's gone?" she inquired,very confused, "come on, let's get you cleaned up, and then we'll talk. I'll take you to your room, and then I need to go tell Mother that I found you. The whole opera house is worried about its newest Prima Donna." She began to lead me out of the room, pulling me along.

"I can't leave, Meg!" I resisted, "What if he comes back? I need to be here to fix it!" I pulled out of her grasp, and ran back to the mirror.

"Christine!" Meg called after me. I didn't respond, and Meg left. I looked at the glass. I appeared in its surface, but I wished my Angel's silhouette would appear, like it did last night. I wished his voice would carry through the walls. I wished he wouldn't abandon me, that he would forgive me for wronging him.

"Angel, please come back," I willed that he would hear my pleas and return to me.

"Christine," Madame Giry called from the doorway, "come, we must get you cleaned up and rested. You have a performance tonight. The whole opera house was worried that harm would cometo its newest Prima Donna."

"I can't. I need to wait for my angel to come back." I stood still facing the mirror, my back to Madame Giry.

I heard her footsteps as she crossed the room, to pull me into a hug, "Christine, he will come back. Just give him time. He wouldn't want you to wither away while he was gone. He wanted you to shine, don't let him down. Take the gift he gave you. Sing for him."

"So, if I sing, he will come to me?" I whispered.

"Perhaps. But you cannot go on like this," she gestured at me, "come, child, let's go," she took my hand, and led me towards the hall. She led me through the labyrinth that was the opera house, until we arrived at her quarters.

"Why are we here?" I asked her.

"I don't think it's a good idea to let the whole corps de ballet question you yet. You need sometime time first."

"Oh, alright," I was relieved. Though the girls were my friends, they gossiped notoriously, and I didn't need people thinking I was insane. Or having an affair.

She led me to the bathroom, where a bath was already drawn, "Get cleaned up. Meg put one of your dresses on the vanity," she told me, squeezed my shoulder, and walked out. The door shut behind her.

The bathroom smelled like lavender. I walked toward the vanity to remove the pins that barely held mycurls out of my face. I wiped my sleeve along the mirror to get rid of the fog. My face appeared. My eyes were red from exhaustion and crying. My hair was barely held up. Andmy nose was red and runny. Thank goodness I had removed my makeup before I left, or my face would be covered in multicolored streaks by now.

I pulled the bobby pins out of my long tresses, letting them fall in front of my face. I tugged on the loose ends of the bow and let my robe fall to the ground. I untied the straps of my leotard and let that tumble off too. ThenI took off my chemise, and tossed it onto the stool by the vanity.

I took three strides and was standing by the claw-footed tub that radiated a pleasant heat. I plunged my hand under the lavender bubbles, and moved my hand through the water, testing it. The bath was the perfect temperature. I lifted one leg, and pushed it through the foamy top layer. I climbed over, eager to submerge myself in the pleasant heat. To let it wash away the pain.

I closed my eyes, and dunked my head under, holding my breath for as long as I could, letting my heart beat slow, and the tears flow, mixing in with the liquid around me. I lifted my head out of the water. My head was covered in bubbles, which I massaged into my scalp, washing my hair.

I reached over to a clean washcloth hanging on a rack, and soaked it with water and bubbles. I brought it to my neck, and began running it over the pale flesh in small circles. I moved it down to my collar bone, and then my arms,cleaning everything I could reach, letting the circular motion relax my stiff muscles.

I wet the cloth once more, running it over my face, cleaning off the tear soaked skin, letting all the remains of my misery was away. The bubbles were thin, and the water cooled, so I sunk under the water, running my fingers through my scalp and over my skin, to get rid of all the soap.

I rose, and wrapped a towel around myself. I moved my chemise of the stool, and sat by the vanity. I took a brush and began arranging the wet mess on my head into a neat braid. It hung down to my hips when it was done, and I removed the towel from my wet figure. I began to dry myself off, careful to dry every crevice. Then I clothed myself, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Madame Giry and Meg were waiting for me, Madame Giry reading notes from today's rehearsal for Il Muto while Meg fidgeted impatiently. "Feeling better?" the older woman asked, looking up from her paper.

"Are you alright, Christine?" Meg inquired.

"I've been better..." I replied morosely. At least, I wasn't a sobbing mess now, but I was still feeling dejected.

"What happened?" Meg's face was etched with concern, and a tad of curiosity.**  
**

"Hush, Meg. Give Christine a chance to rest," Madame Giry said, attempting to save me from the interrogation Meg was eager to begin. Meg sighed, but decided to leave me be for now.

"What time is it?" I hoped there was enough time for a nap. I felt as though I could sleep for eternity. I wanted to do that. If I slept, maybe the thoughts of my angel leaving me wouldn't plague my mind.

"It's three o'clock. You have time to rest if you wish to," Madame Giry seemed to pick up on my thoughts.

"Poor Christine, you look exhausted," Meg mused.

I looked solemnly at Meg. I wished I could go to sleep, but I didn't want to dream. I feared what was sure to occupy my thoughts.

"Christine," Madame Giry commanded my attention, "you must rest." Her tone left no room for argument. "Meg, would you please gather the ballet corps? I will meet you in the auditorium for rehearsal in twenty minutes."

"Yes, mother," Meg replied as she rose from her seat. She walked towards the door, and glanced at me. She exited the Giry's suite, and shut the door behind her.

Madame Giry turned to me, as soon as we could no longer hear Meg's footsteps, "Christine, go rest," she urged.

"I can't," I looked down at my feet, biting my lips, fighting back tears that suddenly threatened to fall.

"Christine, it will not do anyone good if you die of exhaustion."

"But I'm... I'm scared," I confessed, tripping over my words. I felt the floodgates open, and the drops tumbled down my cheeks.

Madame Giry pulled me into a hug, "Shh... it's alright Christine, everything will be fine," the strict ballet instructor became a concerned mother comforting her child. "Give it time."

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself down. Madame Giry released me, and I sank into the couch. I took a shaky breathe and answered, "I'll try."

"Good. I must get to rehearsals. I'll come get you at six to ready yourself for the performance."

I simply nodded. Madame Giry exited, and I was left alone. I laid my head on a pillow and but quickly got back up**, **kneelingbeside the couch and bowed my head, "Lord," I began to pray, "please hear my prayer. Please, if you can, send the angel of music back to me. I didn't mean to offend him or you. Please forgive me for my sin."

I got back onto a couch, and quickly slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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The opening notes of my aria began. I stood onstage, waiting for the cue, the one that meant it was time to begin my song. I silently prayed that my angel would hear me, and know that this was for him. The music swelled around me, and I took hold of the silken scarf around my neck, and opened my mouth.

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I escaped the crowd and slipped into my dressing room. I lit a lamp to illuminate the chamber. As the shadows retreated, I looked around. Bouquets of roses surrounded me. My heart fell, and I raced around searching. But it wasn't there.

One final drop fell. I closed my eyes, seeing what I was looking for. A blood red rose, with a length of black ribbon tied around it. The seal of my angels approval. I had always taken it for granted, it was always there. But no longer. It wasn't here. He wasn't coming back. I felt my heart shatter like glass, it's shards cutting into me, sending pain racing through me.

The door behind me opened. I turned to face my visitor, "Meg, not now! I need sometime to think it through!" I growled, frustrated. My cheeks grew red as I saw who it was. "Raoul?"

"Bonjour, Christine," he greeted.

"What are you doing here?"

"I figured since you disappeared before dinner last night, we could eat together tonight," he stated.

"I can't, I already told you my..." my what? My teacher? My angel? He was gone. He left. Why shouldn't I have dinner with Raoul, I had nothing else planned. It would be nice to catch up with my old friend. I smiled at him, "Alright. Give me a minute to get changed."

"And how do I know you won't disappear again?" he challenged.

"I agreed to come this time. Last night, I told you I couldn't," I grinned at him.

"I guess that'll have to do," he chuckled.

"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

"I'll pick you up then. Until later," he took my hand, and bent over. His lips brushed my knuckles, and he retreated.

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I fell back against the plush cushions as the carriage stopped. Raoul smirked at me, "You know, for a ballet dancer, you don't exactly have the best balance."

"Thank you. I didn't know that it was a custom for nobility to insult their date. I'll have to note that." I retorted.

Raoul laughed, his dimples showing as he responded to my reply, "Only when their dates are old friends."

I rolled my eyes at him, still the joker I remembered from all those years ago. Raoul opened the door to the carriage and hopped out. I got up to follow, and grasped Raoul's hand to keep me from falling onto my face. He assisted me to solid ground, and tucked my arm through the crook of his elbow, "This way, Lotte."

I allowed him to take me into a dimly lit restaurant. We were escorted to a table in a corner. Raoul pulled the chair out, and let me sit, before walking around and taking his seat. "Wow," I murmured, "it's beautiful, Raoul." It truly was. The table was covered with a white lacy cloth, with a silver candelabra protruding from the brick wall above us. The china plates had rosedesigns twisting upon them. The silverware had dark spiraling designs etched in them. I felt my stomach twist painfully. This all reminded me of my angel. _No_! I scolded myself mentally, forcing myself to smile, as I stared at the single redrose in a vase at the center of the table. _I will not think of him, tonight. I am here with Raoul. Besides, he left me._**  
**

A waiter arrived with menus. I was thankful for this distraction. Raoul simply looked at me smiling. "Already know what to order?" I inquired, the silence was causing my mind to wander to troubling thoughts.

"Of course."

"Any suggestions?" I wished he would talk instead of just looking at me! It was strange, and uncomfortable.

"While you were lost in thoughts, I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of wine to go with the meal, I hope that's okay. As for a dish..." he took a moment to think, before suggesting a few dishes whose names I wasn't particularly paying attention too.

The waiter returned to our table, with a bottle of expensive looking wine, and we both ordered a dish. "So what happened since we were children?" I asked Raoul, eager to get my mind off... things.

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Raoul pulled me against him as I stepped out of the carriage. I wanted to scream when I smelled him. He drank at least three quarters of the wine, and if the way he was walking was any indication, he was drunk. "Come wiff me," he slurred slightly, "I'll take you to your dresshing room." His 's' was very distorted by the alcohol.

"I'll be fine." I said hurriedly. I'd heard stories back in the ballet corps, so girls had said that sometimes drunk men took advantage of women. Raoul wouldn't hurt me, but he was drunk, and I was scared.

"I inshisht," he slurred, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along the cobblestone towards the opera house. His hand squeezed my wrist, so hard I couldn't feel my hand. He dragged me through the doors and up the grand staircase, towards my dressing room.

We arrived at our destination. He pushed the doors open and practically threw me inside. I stumbled and Raoul caught me, crushing me against him. I started quivering. This was nothing like when my angel saved me, this was uncomfortable and I wanted him to leave. His hand moved from my waist, where he had caught me, it went lower until, I shrieked. His hand began to touch my rear end**, **and screamed. His lips caught mine, in a painful, bruising embrace. Pain. All I felt was pain. I couldn't even scream for help, as my lips were currently being crushed by the monster my old friend had become.

I heard a growl, and I fell. The next thing I remember was darkness.


	8. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Greetings! I apologize for the delay in updating, but I was in the area affected by Hurricane Sandy, and got a week off from school, which is when I normally write, and I got really lazy, and spent the whole time watching musicals, and didn't write... I'd also like to inform you that I'm changing the rating of the story to 'M' because there are dark skies ahead, and possibly some non-graphic sexual scenes. To anyone who is uncomfortable reading those, I apologize, but that's the way the story is writing itself. On another note, thanks to my splendiferous Beta xMegxGiryx, and to all you guys who read, review, favorite, and/or follow "Angels and Phantoms".

newbornphanatic- When I wrote this, I really was tempted to have Erik kill him, kind of like: "We had some artistic differences. He saw himself alive, and I saw him dead", that kind of thing. Sadly, I do need him to carry out the plot. I'm glad I left you hanging, it'll make it more exciting when you get this chapter :)

PhantomFan01- Don't worry, Christine will survive. Can't say as much for Raoul with an angry Erik on the loose. Well, I can, because I do need him. For now... But yeah, anyway, thanks for reading, and of course, I will update as fast as possible :)

Hello- I'm glad you like it! Raoul is indeed a meanie-poo :( Thank you by the way, you flatter me. I try to update a frequently as possible, so don't worry about that.

partypenguina3- My thoughts exactly. And of course I will!

ChristineLSamuels- Yeah, it is pretty weird. And also, I wrote this before I read yours, so chill.

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**Chapter 6**

My head felt as if it had been hit with a brick, and my back ached. I sat up on a plush mattress, tangled in a silken blanket. It felt reminiscent of my angel's house. No, not reminiscent, it was hid house! But how had I gotten here? "Angel?" I called into the darkness.

A door on the far side of the room creaked open, letting in light from the hall. I let out a hiss of pain as the brightness blinded me. "Christine?" my angel said quietly, as his beautiful tenor filled my ears and made my heart swell. He was back. "Are you alright?"

"You're back," I smiled in the semi-darkness. I tried to sit up, groaning as pain shot up my spine and my head throbbed in protest.

My angel walked to over to the side of the bed, "Rest, you hit your head when that bastard you call a friend dropped you."

_Raoul! _I thought. That's why I'm here! My angel saved me from Raoul's drunken assault! Despite my head, I got up and hugged my angel, my head against his chest. "You saved me," I whispered against his soft shirt, "you came back and rescued me." He was stiff, not even breathing as I clung to him, but he began to relax, wrapping new arm around me and returning my embrace.

"I swore you wouldn't be in any danger. I intend to keep that promise," his chest rumbled against my cheek, and he pulled me closer to him, his cheek resting against the top of my head.

I spoke the thoughts that had got me into this mess in the first place, "Then why did you leave me?"

"Because you saw," he released me and stepped back as he spat out the words. I stumbled, and he pulled me against him once more.

"Saw what?" I still did not understand what he meant by that.

"How are you so blind?" he muttered, more to himself then me, for I wouldn't even have been able to understand what he had said if I hadn't been pressed against him. His hands slid down to my arms, and he pushed me away from him, holding me at arm's length. He looked me in the eye, "You took... took off my mask."

"So?"

"You... you saw... you took off my mask," the way he was looking at me, so hopeless, so defeated, it made me want to cry. How was it I'd hurt him so badly?

"I'm sorry. But I didn't see anything," my teeth bit my bottom lip, "just please, don't ever leave me again," I buried my face into his chest to hide the tears that flowed from my eyes at the thought of losing him, "don't ever leave again, angel."

"I am not an angel, Christine," he whispered into my ear, his hand ran up and down along my spine.

"Then what should I call you? Maestro? Monsieur?" I'd known him as 'angel' since he'd come to me.

"I was called Erik once," he revealed slowly.

"Erik?" I tried the name, "hmm... I like that. Erik," I moved my head from where it was buried in his shirt to look up at his beautiful features. I stood up on tiptoe. Years of ballet, painful as they were, might be useful for what I was about to do.

I leaned my face toward his, closing my eyes. My lips pressed gently against of his hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him, while the other slipped into the mass of curls on my head, letting him angle my head however he wanted. I let my hands trail up and down his chest, as his lips massaged mine gently. I tilted my head to the side, and his top lip slid between mine.

He pushed me away. A moan of protest escaped my lips, as he moved away from me. We stood there, staring at each other, breathing heavily, for what seemed like an eternity. "Christine," he keened, "no. We can't. We shouldn't."

"Why?" I asked, utterly confused. I took a step towards him, and he backed away from me.

"No, we can't," he was talking more to himself than meonce again, with a frightening look in his eyes, "Christine couldn't love me. Erik is a monster. Erik is hideous, Christine is an angel. Erik is old enough to be Christine's father. This is bad. This won't end well for Erik."

"Erik? Are you alright?" He was scaring me.

"Christine, you should go," he hissed, his eyes still gleaming with a look that seemed to belong to a caged animal.

"What!" I squeaked, my voice cracking as my voice reached notes I had to spend an hour warming up to reach, and my spirit shattering along with it, "You're leaving me? Again?" I started sobbing, collapsing onto the stone floor.

"Christine," he whispered, rushing over to where I was on the floor. Erik bent over and scooped me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I instinctively placed my ear by his heart, listening to its steady beating to help me calm down.

"Don't leave," I gasped into his shirt between deep breathes.

"Christine," he said reverently, "how? How is it you don't run?" He held me tighter against him.

"Don't go. Stay. Don't leave me. Please believe me. I've never met anyone like you," I pleaded.

"Shhhhhhh," he hushed me, "it's alright, Christine."

"Erik," I started. I needed to get this out of me. But would he push me away for asking this? "Erik," I started again, feeling as if I was choking on the words caught in my throat.

"What?" he gave me a look, like he was worried about I had to say, but amused by the fact I couldn't get the words out of my mouth.

"Why don't you want me? You always say such nice things, and then you push me away. Do you like me? You're- you're confusing me, Erik." I felt the tears threatening to spill once more, but blinked quickly. I had to be strong for this answer, regardless of whether I wanted to hear it or not.

"Christine..." he moaned, sending shivers down my spine. Oh God, his voice. He looked at me. "Christine, I love you. But you wouldn't love me. If you saw... you would leave. I can't," tears sprung into his eyes beneath the mask.

"I don't care what you look like! Show me and I'll prove it!" I cried in protest.

Erik put me down on the bed. He bit his lip so hard,I saw blood springing from the flesh, "Why, Christine?" he wailed, but his hand crept up to the mask regardless. His hand crept under it and took it off. I shrieked.


	9. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** This is about the reactions I got to the last chapter-'Are you sure? Are you so sure?' Thank you to my lovely Beta xMegxGiryx! Also, sorry that it's short. I've been spending a lot of time practicing singing. A lot, more than I used to and it's messing up my schedule. And WARNING: pheels.

xMegxGiryx- thank you!

PhantomFan01- just wait, things aren't always what they seem in this story :)

partypenguina3- I'm sorry about the length, but I just wanted to get something up. Also, don't hate Christine, just wait. And sorry about the grammar and spelling, I do this on my iPad, so when I upload it sometimes it makes a mistake like that... And as for the hurricane, I hope your family is okay, and wish them the best of luck. My town was lucky, and we just lost power and some trees.

ChristineLSamuels- Why not? And did you read my author's note last chapter? It's 'M' now, so smut is allowed. I know you've read it (smut, I mean) before, don't act all innocent.

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**Chapter 7**

My shriek echoed throughout the room, causing Erik to flinch, grief flashing in his eyes. I caught him before he retreated, pulling him onto a hug. "My poor Erik!" I wailed, "What happened?" I reached my hand up to his face, cupping it. One side was white and smooth, overall perfection. The other side was discolored and twisted, covered in scars and deformed skin.

"You- you aren't afraid?" He looked at me in awe. He gaped at me, falling onto the bed behind him, and resting his head against me. We stood there holding each other, as tears streamed down our faces, Erik because of disbelief and shock, and me because such a trivial thing caused my angel to hide.  
"I'm not afraid," I murmured into his hair, closing my eyes at the comforting smell of him. "Erik, what happened? Were you caught in a fire?" I felt his breath on my neck, and it was coming out in short, uneven bursts. I pulled away, wanting to look at him.

"I was... born like this," he breathed, looking at me for any sign of rejection. He seemed so frightened, like a child who was waiting to be reprimanded. I leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips, letting it linger a few moments before pulling away and staring into his yellow orbs. "Why don't you run?" he asked me.  
The blood drained from my face, "My mother. She... died because of burns. Because of a fired I caused." I fell into his lap, tears spilling from my eyes as I recalled that time.

"I was young, only three or four years old. I was in the kitchen with my mama. She was cooking something, and I was watching her, sitting at the kitchen table. There was a candle on it. I jumped when a branch hit the window, and I knocked it over," I confessed to him, a bitter taste in my mouth, knowing that no matter what anyone said, not even papa, it was my fault. Erik thought he was a monster, but he needed to know that I was one too. I couldn't keep hiding this. "The tablecloth burst into flames," I continued my story, "and then the table, and then the rest of the house. My papa wasn't home, and there want anyone there to help. I remember that I was stuck behind a wall of fire, and my mama was near the door. She ran through the fire, and broke the window, throwing me through it, and followed me out. We ran to the street, before she collapsed." The images flooding my mind caused me to collapse against chest, more tears soaking my face, and his shirt.

"She was covered in red, burned everywhere. I was lucky, I only burnt my back, when some ember hit me as I ran away. I still have a scar. They took her to the doctor, and sent me to find my papa. When we came back, she was asleep, naked from them cutting her clothes off. They sent me out of the room, and when they let me back in, my papa was crying. Mama called me, and told me she wouldn't live. And that she loved me. She was never more beautiful than at that moment, when she hugged me, burns and all. And then she..." I couldn't finish that sentence.

Erik pulled me closer to him, kissing the top of my head, "I'm sorry, Christine." We stayed like that for a bit, me in his arms, sobbing, as he cried silently, grieving for our losses. He stood up, carrying me, and walked us out of the room. I wrapped my arms around his neck, to feel more steady, and closed my eyes, letting my ear rest on his heart. The steady beating of his heart was soothing, and my crying turned into sniffles.  
Erik put me down, and I squeaked at loss. He left me sitting on a couch, and came back with two cups of tea. He sat next to me, and I leaned against him. He handed me a cup of tea, lifting the other one to his lips, and talking a long slow sip. I followed suit, calming down slightly, taking in a deep shaky breath.  
"Stop crying, Christine," he said, his eyes begging, "Please don't cry, mon ange." I started giggling hysterically at the irony. He was the angel. Not me. He looked at me, chuckling. I must have looked insane.  
Slowly, the tears stopped falling. Exhausted, I leaned against Erik. One oh his arms moved to the small of my back, and he smiled contently. "Goodnight Erik." I said, closing my eyes. I didn't know what time it was, but I was too emotionally drained to care.

"Goodnight, Christine."

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I opened my eyes, to see a strange room. Where was I this time? I sat up, and attempted to push the covers off, but they were stuck. I turned to the other side of the bed, looking for the object interfering. I found it. Erik was atop the covers, snoring lightly. He was adorable, his hair mussed, and his lips forcing a smile. I just couldn't resist, so I leaned towards him, and gently pressed my lips to his.

He woke up with a start, rolling over so he was on top of me, one hand at my neck, the other pinning both of mine. "Christine!" he exclaimed, removing his hand from my throat immediately, "I'm sorry! I didn't..."  
"It's alright," I smiled at him, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just..." I blushed, "you were so adorable, I couldn't resist!" I tried to move my hand, but couldn't, realizing what an... awkward position we were in. Erik seemed to become aware of how close we were, and rolled off. "Where are we?" I asked, trying to change the subject, feeling my blush start to recede, if only slightly.

"My bedroom." he muttered. Casting his eyes to the wall above his head. I felt the blush spread from my cheeks to include my ears and chest as well. And then, to make me even more uncomfortable, my stomach growled loudly. I blushed so hard, I must have looked like Meg when she first tried to put on blush by herself. Erik started laughing, making me squirm. At least one of us enjoyed my discomfort...  
I threw a pillow at his head, pouting at him. "Do you enjoy my suffering, Monsieur le fantomè?"  
He began laughing even harder. May it cause his sides to hurt! "Only when it turns you that splendid shade of red," he retorted, "hungry, Christine?"

I punched him gently in the gut, "What do you think?"

"I shall go make breakfast." He got up, giving me one last longing look, before walking. He poked his head back into the room, "you can freshen up, if you wish. The bathroom is over there," he pointed to a door on the far side of the room, "or go to your room." He walked out again.

I sat up, looking around for a wardrobe. I found one, filled with Erik's clothes. I lifted a shirt to my face and inhaled his heady scent, hugging it against me. I then grabbed a pair of dark, form fitting breeches. I walked into the bathroom, and washed up. I grabbed a comb, making an attempt to untangle my curls. When I looked somewhat presentable, I took off my dress and petticoat, and stood in my chemise. I pulled Erik's poet shirt over my head. I pulled the breeches up, and though they were a bit loose, the riding pants we tight enough to stay up if I rolled the waist a bit. I tucked the shirt into the pants, blousing it a bit. I looked into the mirror and giggled. I looked like a pirate from the stories papa used to tell me, dressed in men's clothes, my hair a wild tangle. I pulled on the pair of slippers I wore the night before. I wonder what Erik will think, I thought.  
I walked out of Erik's room, the aroma of freshly cooked food had filled the hallway in the time I spent getting dressed. I followed it, beginning to salivate. I must have been asleep a long time to be this hungry.  
I wandered into the room I now knew was the kitchen. Erik turned to me when I walked in, the mask once again covering half his face. "You know," I said to him as he ushered me into a chair, "you can take the mask off around me. It must be uncomfortable." I walked to him and lifted his mask off his face, stroking his cheek when she felt him instinctively flinch from me.

He pressed his cheek into my hand, and sighed quietly. It's these moments I wish I could relive forever, I thought, moving a bit closer so I could lean my head against him.

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"Christine," Erik whispered into my hair. I sat against him as we finished reading a book, and I sighed, knowing what he would say. "You've been here almost two day." I closed my eyes, holding back tears. I didn't want to go, I wanted to stay here, with Erik.

"I don't want to go, Erik." I whispered against his chest, closing my eyes and breathing in the smell of him.  
"People will get worried. And you need to go to a practice every now and then," he chuckled dryly. I knew he didn't want me to go either, just as I knew I had to. I straightened and pressed my lips against him, slipping one hand into his hair to deepen it. His hand slipped around my waist, and his tongue past my lips to play with mine. I moaned into his mouth, but then pulled away, before I would refuse to leave at all.

"Okay, I can go for the day now." I told him, placing my head into the crook of his neck, "but only if you come to me tomorrow or tonight." He smiled and lifted me into his arms, carrying me out of the house and beginning to lead me back to my room.


	10. PLEASE READ THIS IF YOU FOLLOW THE STORY

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ**

THIS STORY IS GOING ON HIATUS

I'm really sorry. I know I haven't updated in forever. I tried to write, believe me I did. I went through about 30 drafts that all sounded wrong. I don't have a block, but I've had a lot of shit going on in my life and most of what I write returns dark. And that's not how I want this story to go. So it's on hiatus until things get better.

Again, I'm really sorry everyone, I'll try to be back soon.

Sincerely,

aos33


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